Gjergj Elez Alia had always been the bravest of the brave

By: Mitrush Kuteli (part of "Old Albanian Stories")

Gjergj Elez Alia had always been the bravest of the brave... For years he had become the master of the land of the first; you had defended his honor. You fought with mace and sword against the enemies who poured here from the sea and the land to trample the country, to violate it and lay it bare. And all these enemies Gjergj Elez Alia had lying on the ground, breathless. But in the many wars with many tyrants, our brave man had received nine wounds in his stature, and now he had been sent to the tower for nine years. His sister sat on his head day and night, washed his wounds with water from a nine-year-old stone, washed him with the tears of her eyes, wiped his blood with his forehead hair: tied his waist with his mother's handkerchiefs, adorned him with old clothes Father's: weapons by his side, Father George felt his heart still warm, a glimmer of hope rose up in him. He endured the pain of his wounds like a man when his sister changed his stature.

Only one pain could not stand Gjergji: the pain for his dear sister buried alive next to him, in the tower above, to heal her wounds, to take care of her. This pain made Gjergji lie as if dead, breathless. Gjergji's sister had never had moments of joy. While her friends enjoyed their youth, fell in love, got married, had children, she was always locked in the tower next to the sick George. That's how the nine years passed. In the ninth year, it was opened and received the terrible word that a brave, strong and strong black sea lion had come out of the sea, the most evil of all the other sea lions that had set foot on our land until then. This scumbag again had cast a heavy burden on the country: every door would give him a ripe ram, every hearth would send him a wet lamb. Balozi killed day by day, burned a province week by week. He had slain so many kreshniks that now no one had the heart to come forward and cut off his spear, for his mace was too heavy, his sword too sharp, and his spear pierced beyond the height of the Kreshnik. thus, the whole country languished under his hoof. Gjergj Elez Alia didn't know anything: he was lying on the bed like a dead man in the grave. When it was the turn of Gjergji's house to give the tribute to Baloz: the roasted ram and the sister, this sister wept with tears, complained and said:

- Brother, how did the dead forget us and not take us? Mother and father are rotting dead under the bulrush. The brother's state rots alive inside the house. The status of the sister will fall into the hands of the black bull... Why doesn't this tower collapse and take us dead inside? Why doesn't this house of ours become germady? Death is sweeter, my black mother, than life without honor!

Then Gjergji woke up, looked around and didn't know what had happened. You felt that your face was gone and you suspected that the tower had collapsed so much that it was pouring rain inside. Your heart broke in two, he looked at his sister: two lines of tears ran down his exhausted cheeks. And out of grief he cursed the tower:

- Hey, you're cool, my tower! To cover the bottom of the top of the slush! There are no inhabitants of the snake! How did you drop the raindrops in my bed so quickly? The sister wiped her tears with a crooked hand and said:

- No, brother, it is not raining outside and the roof of the tower is not dripping. You have been very tired by the wounds of the state and the desert, that's why I don't know what you are talking about: my eyes are dripping with tears, brother! Then Gjergji shook his hand with that dry palm, smoothed his face sweetly, looked at him with those eyes of longing and spoke to him passionately, as they had never spoken before:

- Why are you crying, my sister? Why do you break my heart so hard? My state has been rotting away for nine years. In these nine years, your George has never had a rest, he has rustled all over like that beech leaf on the cheek of the doorknob. Have you not had anything to eat or drink in these nine years? Didn't your brother keep you clothed and clothed? Has he ever weighed you down with words? Or is your brother bored and you want to get married and leave him? Then the sister took her hand, pressed it on her forehead and answered:

- Oh, brother! Did the suffering that speaks to me like that upset you so much? I breathed life into and I feel like getting married! I have had enough to eat and drink, brother. Even dressed and undressed, I had enough. You have never burdened me with words like today. I have an uncle to you, I have a brother to you. And today, brother Gjergj, I want to cry a big cry for you. How could you not have grown up in these nine years to get out of the door? How did your sister not tell them, sour wine! And how can I bear the shame of going to the bailozi's door?

When he heard these words, father Gjergji forgot the nine wounds of his stature, I forget the nine pains, and stood straight as if he had never languished in bed: thin, tall, as he had once been: brave among the brave. He said to his sister:

- O sister, take the war chest and quickly bring it down to the city straight away, my brother said. Tell him: "Gergji sends you thanks, to run his neck well with forged iron horseshoes and brass nails, because he will come out to the ball in the men's square." If you don't want to run away from me brother, enter again and go to the door of the lover's inn. The girl got into the car, chased it quickly, went down to the city, I go straight to my brother's pawnbroker. - Good job, brother pawnbroker!

- Goodbye, my distant girl!

- O brother, Father Gjergji sends you thanks and greetings, so that you can run your neck well with forged iron horseshoes and brass spikes, because you will get the ball in the men's square.

However, in these nine years, since Gjergji had been buried alive inside the tower, Nallban the brother had completely forgotten the old brotherhood. He started talking to his sister Gjergji.

- If you forgive me - he said - my girl, those eyes on your forehead, I will save your George: I will beat his head well and make him fly like the wind.

Gjergji's sister replied angrily:

- What are you saying, O Nallban, to dry up your mouth? I said that I came to the door of my brother, I see that I have fallen to the door of the magician. I forgave these two eyes once and for all to my mother and father who are rotting under the ground, I forgave my George who is rotting in nine wounds on the ground! That's what Gjergji Nallban's sister said to her brother who had forgotten brotherhood and fell off his horse and went to Nallban Dashmiri.

- Dear farrier, - he told him, - father Gjergji sends you his thanks, so that you can run him well with forged horseshoes and bronze spikes, because he will come out to fight with the sea bass.

Nallban the lover didn't give a second thought to him, he was running away from his beautiful horse, as if for himself.

- Tell him - he said - thank you to George the white-cheeked noble in the war.

- Good luck, you love-loving bastard!... - replied the girl.

In the evening, the girl returned home and found Gjergjin waiting in the shade of the sturgeon: dressed and well-dressed, with his weapons by his side. He had overcome the seventh pain to preserve the honor of his house and the whole country, for revenge. What did Gjergj Elez Alia do? The sea bailiff sent him thanks and said:

- I don't care about you, you bastard! Deşe e Vatha, I did not fatten them for you. I have only one sister at home, but I can't give it to her because there is no one to bind my wounds. So, I'm waiting for you to duel in the men's square! When the light began to whiten the peaks, both George and the sea lion - went out across the field of war and began to sting each other with words. Balozi was dressed in heavy iron armor, had a steel helmet on his head, was armed with a heavy mace and a long sword. Even the horse was driven with iron plates. The ground shook where he stepped. As soon as he saw Gjergji very lost, passed over the head, Balozi laughed out loud and called out to him:

- Did you get up from the grave, George? Why did you take me out in vain, man, on the field of war? Don't you know that they call me a sea bass? I have knocked many Kreshniks off their horses and sent them to the other world. I will crush you with my little finger.

George replied nicely:

- Well said, O Baloz, good mouth! Indeed, it has been nine years since I took the road to the grave, because I have nine wounds in my stature. Before I even reached the grave, you brought me back. Because you asked for my sister before you asked for the duel, you asked for the bears before you asked for the shepherd. I have come here to tell you what the canon of our forefathers tells us: not to let go before we lay down our weapons, never to give our sisters to the baloz before we are cut with the sword on the battlefield. Get ready, because your last day has come!

This is what Gjergj Elez says to Alia! They let the horses run across the battlefield, smoke after smoke. Balozi again took the cue first and threw the mace. Gjogu i Gjergji bent both knees and sat down. The heavy ball of the ball flew over George's head and stuck twelve feet deep in the lawn. The dust rose twelvefold. When it was Gjergji's turn, he threw his club beautifully and shot the ball into the path of the forehead. Balozi bowed down dead. When he grew up, the field smelled. The horse ran away. George immediately took out his sharp sword and split the cover from the trunk. He hung his head on the saddle apple, dragged the trunk by his feet, across the field, through the brambles and brambles, and threw it into a ditch. The blood of the black bear flowed down the stream and blackened the entire river. For three years in a row, the whole country reeked of carrion...

After killing the black bear, the brave returned home victorious, gathered all his friends and said:

- Do not listen, my friends! Thanks to you be my towers, thanks to you be all my money, thanks to you be all my longing and things! Bequeath the sister of Gjergj Elez Alis!

And the brave man jumped to embrace his niece, who was waiting for him with joy. Both their hearts stopped at the same time. The brother and sister fell to the ground dead. The easiest and sweetest death you've ever seen! His friends mourned him with great grief. Then they opened a wide grave to take them both, brother and sister, in each other's arms. The grave was surrounded with a beautiful murana so that it would never be forgotten how much a sister loved a brother and how much a brother loved a sister, so that the great brave Gjergj Elez Alia who defended his honor and that of the house and who saved the country from the violence of the black beast!

On the top, the friends planted a beautiful bumblebee for them both: there the summer bird sometimes rests. Everything was gone: Gjergj Elez Alia died, the grieving sister died, the high tower collapsed. Even the wall of the tomb is no longer known, nor the former tower. The song that goes like a star of light through the centuries to sing the bravery of the brother and the love of the sister came out. And the song never dies!